


Secret Fantasies

by Blue_Night



Category: Men's Football RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Explicit Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Secret Fantasies, Stripping, Teasing, a lot of porn with some plot and hidden feelings, phone chatting, sex as a valve, surprise visit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 13:51:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17408093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night
Summary: Erik has a crush on Robert for years, and he's had a lot of secret fantasies about him. He never expected anything to ever happen between them though, and he's shocked to find Robert waiting for him before his front door one evening after another lost match...





	Secret Fantasies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luciferieee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciferieee/gifts).



> My dearest Luciferieee,
> 
> we're in this together, both of us suffering so much with Erik and his Terriers fighting at the bottom of the table, so this is for you! :-* I still can't believe that I pulled you into this so deep, but I'm really glad that I did. I hope that you will like this, my dear, this story is my small thank you for all of the love, support and praise you're gifting me with! ♥

Another painful loss.

It's dark and cold when Erik comes back to his new home in a different town in a different country, and the darkness and the weather are matching with his feelings, perfectly. All Erik wants to do is to crawl into his bed and pull the blankets over his head to forget about everything for a few hours, and he suppresses a groan when he notices the tall black figure leaning against the front door of his rented house. He doesn't expect any visitor, and he's really not in the mood for dealing with a fan and answer to their understandable questions about their poor and abysmal performance, about their inability to shoot goals. He's not in the mood to force a cheerful smile on his face and sign autographs and photos, but he knows that he won't have any other choice than to do what's expected from him.

It's the price he knew that he'd have to pay it when he took up on the chance to become a professional footballer when it offered itself to him so many years ago, and Erik straightens his shoulders and wills his lips to curl into a grimace that will hopefully go for a real smile as he approaches the figure that is now turning their head to watch him coming closer silently and without moving.

It never takes long until fans find out where he lives, it's the same in England as it has been in Germany. Erik only hopes that it won't take too long until he'll be able to close the door behind himself and lock the dark and cold world outside out, and he muses about pulling the hood deeper into his face and simply ignoring his late visitor, but he knows that he can't do that in the end. That's not him, ignoring his fans, and he's far too grateful that there are still people out there that are willing to support him and their team to even consider asking the unknown fan to be left alone.

Their posture is relaxed and attentive at the same time, the baseball cap hiding their features, and Erik feels himself tensing up with a sudden wariness. What if the seeming fan is not a fan at all, but a bad person, a stalker or thief or someone bearing a grudge against him because of his performance?

Erik stops when there are hardly more than three meters left between them, narrowing his eyes to focus his vision and catch a glimpse of the other one, and his visitor lifts there chin up ever so slightly to meet Erik's gaze, the ghost of a mocking smile playing around their lips.

They stare at each other, and Erik feels his jaw literally drop down to the ground.

He knows his visitor, he knows them quite well, actually. Not as good as he'd like to know them, but good enough to be stunned into silence and even shocked that they have found their way to his new home.

“B... bu... but what are _you_ doing here?” he stammers, his voice sounding strange to his own ears, and his brain is desperately trying to process what's going on here, because he can't come up with any reason why this person of all people would possibly want to visit him in cold and rainy Huddersfield instead of enjoying their short holidays somewhere nice, warm and sunny.

This is not happening, not at all. This is some kind of weird dream he will wake up from soon enough, Erik's sure of that. He knows that he's gaping at the other one with a stupid expression on his face, standing there frozen in place like a rabbit would sit before a sizzling snake, and his mind is totally blank and incapable of forming any coherent thought.

The expression of his visitor changes from curious and expectantly to amused, and their mocking and knowing smile deepens when Robert Lewandowski finally opens his mouth and says:

“Hello, hazel-eye, I'm happy to see you too!”

 

***

 

Erik keeps staring at Robert, finally snapping his own mouth shut again. His throat is dry like sandpaper, and his tongue feels like a stranded whale in his dry mouth.

Robert Lewandowski is happy to see him? He's even calling him hazel-eye? The one and only Robert Lewandowski Erik's had a crush on for ages? The Robert Lewandowski who always either ignored him or – worse – treated him with the patience you'd treat the unnerving and misbehaving children of your boss with if you were invited to them for a Sunday afternoon coffee table?

Erik pinches himself with trembling fingers, flinching and groaning when the sharp sting on his forearm assures him that he's not dreaming but wide awake, and that Robert Lewandowski is actually leaning against his front door with that irritable and knowing smirk curling on his sensitive lips that makes him look even more beautiful and irresistible than he already is.

“You okay, hazel-eye?” Robert raises one of his perfect dark eyebrows meaningfully and in some kind of faked concern, apparently unfazed by Erik's silent gaping.

“Uhm, yes, thank you...” Erik hears himself croak, wondering briefly that his voice is still functioning. “What are you doing here, Robert?” he then repeats, and now Robert's other eyebrow travels up as well, meeting its companion in the middle of Robert's normally smooth forehead.

“You invited me to come here and... ähm... have some fun with you?” he says somewhat questioningly, looking at Erik with a slight frown as if he'd just grown a second head.

“I did _what_?!”

This is totally weird. It can't be that this is truly happening.

Erik's brain refuses to cooperate and he's sure that there's something wrong with his hearing. He blinks and shakes his head to clear his mind from the sudden dizziness that makes the world spin around him – at least everything around him except for Mr. Sex-on-legs Robert Lewandowski.

Erik can't tell how many times he's lain in his bed and dreamed of Robert lying beside him, naked, sweaty and panting after having fucked him through the mattress, but he is damn sure that he never told anybody about his stupid crush on the hottest dark-haired striker with those deep blue eyes that is walking this earth.

No one except for...

“I never invited you, Robert!” Erik objects helplessly, feeling mortified and totally confused. “How would you even think that?”

 _He_ wouldn't do that. _He_ would never tell Robert about his crush on him, right?

Robert looks pretty confused now too, his victorious and amused grin fading a little bit. He reaches into his pocket to pull his smartphone out and scroll through his data without another word, the pale green of the screen making him look like a ghost in the darkness of the late evening, a very handsome ghost admittedly.

He sticks his phone into Erik's face silently when he's found what he's been searching for, and Erik stares at the greenish screen, trying to bring some sense into the letters he can read there.

 _'I can't wait to see you in action, Mr. Sex!'_ Erik reads dumbfounded, _'wish you were here already!'_  
There's Erik's new address underneath the message, and Robert's answer to 'his' rather blatant invitation:

 _'Hoped you'd say that!'_ followed by the grinning violet devil emoji. _'I'm on my way, hazel-eye, see you soon in person and color...'_

Erik swallows, and his fingers tremble visibly when he takes the phone from Robert's hand to scroll through the entire chat. What he can read makes him blush furiously, and he desperately asks himself what the meaning of all of this is.

Maybe he's gone insane without noticing that something's terribly wrong? Because these are most of his forbidden sexual fantasies he's ever had about Robert, but Erik is still sure that he's never chatted with Robert via phone, because he would surely remember Robert's messages about where and how he wants to fuck him senseless, wouldn't he? Hell, he'd spent six months in Munich in a hotel for his last rehab, and yet he never dared to call Robert and ask him to meet up for a simple and innocent coffee date among friends and former teammates, angry with himself that he was such a coward.

“I – I didn't write that!” he chokes out, feeling horrified and not daring to meet Robert's eyes.

“No need to be shy now, Erik,” Robert says, and he sounds irritated and annoyed. “You weren't that shy when you described your fantasy about blowing me in the FCB locker room in such colorful details!”

Erik groans. This is one of the fantasies he really wants to forget, one of the many he's had when he was still playing for Dortmund. The chances that Erik's new club will ever play against the famous FCB go to zero, and these kind of fantasies therefore were too painful to still have them after his move to Huddersfield, and so Erik buried them deep down in his heart and tried hard to forget them.

“I'm not shy. I wasn't the one writing you all of these things, Robert!” Erik tries to explain. “Look at my phone!” he pulls it out of his own pocket and almost drops it. “Here's your number in my contacts, but the only messages I've ever sent you were some congratulations or so!”

Robert takes his own phone back, observing Erik with pursed lips. “Because you got a second phone for our chats, hazel-eye. I don't know why you're suddenly playing the role of the shrinking violet, and I have to tell you that it's not really a turn-on for me. I liked you better when you were bold and open about your wishes. Your crush on me is an open secret, I've always known that you were lusting after me, Durm. Are you getting cold feet now that I'm finally here and willing to let your secret dreams come true?”

“But I didn't...” Erik snaps his mouth shut again, and when the door of one of the neighbor houses opens and a dark figure pokes its head out, Erik realizes that his front yard is not the best place to have this kind of conversation. He sighs and rubs his nose, jerking his head to the door. Apart from that, it's cold, dark and late, and there's no way that Erik will be bad host and send Robert away at this hour.

“Please come in, Robert,” he says tiredly, “there's a lot we have to talk about, I guess, and we really shouldn't do that standing before my front door.”

 

***

 

Half a minute later, they're standing in Erik's corridor, looking at each other awkwardly. There are lines of fatigue around Robert's eyes and mouth, but he's still far too attractive and sexy for Erik's peace of mind.

The dark-haired striker regards him with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity as if Erik was a rare exhibit, and his jaw is set in a hard line of firm determination to achieve what he's come here for – namely having some fun with 'hazel-eye', whatever his definition of the word fun might include, that is.

“Do you want something to drink, Robert?” Erik says slowly when the silence between them is getting uncomfortable, biting down on his bottom lip and beckoning his unexpected guest to follow him into the living room with a vague gesture of his hand.

Robert keeps watching him quietly while he's shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it over the hook himself because Erik is still too shocked to remember all of his normally perfect manners. He slips out of his boots and walks past Erik, brushing against his arm with his body. Erik tries his best not to show the shiver running through him at the contact, but Robert's eyes light up for a split second, and the wry smile is back on his lips.

“Do you have coffee?” he asks, his voice low and far too seductive for the awkward situation, “I think that we'll both need it for our... talk and after both of our straining day.”

The way Robert emphasizes the word 'talk' indicates that he doesn't necessarily means a conversation consisting of spoken words with that, but another kind of 'talk' he must have in mind.

“Ähm, yes, of course, I have coffee. Coffee is good, isn't it? After your long flight and the drive and my game and... Alright, coffee, I can make us some coffee.” Erik's babbling, and he knows it, but he just can't help it. He's rushing to his kitchen like hell, grateful that he can hide from Robert's intense gaze for a couple of minutes. It won't be enough to find his composure again, but making coffee will at least keep him from making everything worse and going on with babbling and behaving like the shrinking violet Robert has mentioned earlier.

He's a mature young man, at least he thought that of himself until he found Robert waiting for him before his front door half an hour ago. Erik goes through the well-known routine of brewing coffee the traditional way with the coffee machine his mother gave him with a smile when he moved to Dortmund, telling him that he should always take the time to start his day with a cup of hot and freshly brewed coffee instead of sleeping in and leaving his flat in a hurry and without a proper breakfast.

The familiar moves calm his racing heart down a bit, and Erik fishes his phone out of his pocket while he waits for the machine to finish, his cheeks burning bright red when he checks his messages again – just to be sure that he hasn't missed something and maybe chatted with Robert in such an unmistakable erotic way without realizing it.

His chats are clean, and Erik closes his eyes and huffs a shaky sigh.

This is all so ridiculous and weird, not making any sense, but Erik feels more like crying than laughing.

The coffee machine announces with a loud hiss that it's done with the brewing, and Erik rubs his forehead and puts the pot, two mugs, milk and sugar onto a tray to carry it over to his living room where Robert is still waiting for an explanation. Erik halfway expects the older player to await him naked after what he said earlier when they were still standing before his front door, and his knees buckle with relief when he sees that Robert is still decently dressed with his jeans and a tightly fitting cashmere pullover. There's a tiny part of him being disappointed though, and Robert smirks knowingly as if he'd caught the brief flashing of regret about his clothed appearance in Erik's eyes.

Erik sets the tray down on his coffee table, glad that he doesn't make a mess because his hands are trembling so much. He pours a mug for Robert and then another one for himself, and Robert's silence as he watches him serve both of them is unnerving. “Your coffee, Robert.” Erik says, just to fill the silence with some words – anything – and Robert takes the mug and gently blows over the steaming dark beverage, his eyes never leaving Erik's face.

“Thank you, hazel-eye. And please call me at least Lewy like you did in the past – if you don't want to call me 'Mr. Sex' as long as we're still dressed.”

Erik's coffee takes the wrong pipe and he almost spills it all over the table when he starts to cough violently, choking and desperately gasping for air. His eyes fill with water, and Robert's scent intermingles with the smell of coffee when the dark-haired striker moves closer to pat Erik's back.

“Robert – Lewy!!! Can you please stop that?!” he shouts when he doesn't feel like suffocating at any second any longer. “I wasn't the one sending you these messages, and I've definitely never called you 'Mr. Sex'!” At least not out loud, only in his forbidden fantasies and dreams.

Robert purses his lips and cocks his head. “Not even in your dreams, hazel-eye?” he wants to know, and Erik can't believe it, but he's actually sounding disappointed. Erik blushes furiously, at loss for words, and Robert's expression turns from disappointed to relieved.

“I knew it!” he purrs smugly, and Erik feels his throat tightening with both anger and humiliation. “There's no need to mock me, Robert. Me having had a crush on you doesn't entitle you to make fun of me.”

“Having had? So you don't have a crush on me anymore, hazel-eye?” Robert's voice is calm, and his expression is unreadable, but there is an undertone in his voice Erik can't really detect. He bites his lip again and turns his head away, because he isn't really good at lying, and he prefers not to answer to this question.

“So you still do, Erik.” It's a statement, not a question.

“Can you please stop mocking me, Robert?” Erik whispers close to tears. He just came home after another lost match, he's tired and aching and homesick and sad, and all he wants to do is curl himself up in his bed and cry. He has no strength left to deal with Robert's visit, his blatant challenge and his own unrequited feelings for him, and Robert's presence in his lonely house that still doesn't feel like a real home only adds to his misery and his heartache.

“I'm not mocking you, Erik.” Robert has moved closer without Erik taking notice of it, and his hand is warm and heavy on his shoulder. “Do you really think that I would come here, fly all the way from Munich to Manchester and then drive here with a taxi just to make fun of you?”

Erik shrugs his shoulders in a helpless gesture, staring down at his hands balled to tight fists in his lap. “I don't know. I don't know anything any longer. All I know is that I've never written you these things, and that I'm tired and not really in the state to have such a discussion with you at the moment.”

“I see.” Robert leaves his hand where it is, and his touch is far more comforting than it should actually be. “Do you want me to leave, hazel-eye?” The older one sounds sincere, understanding, but also tired and disappointed, even though he does his best to hide it.

“Yes. No. I don't know.” Erik forces himself to meet Robert's attentive gaze. “I'm sorry.”

Robert strokes his cheek. “Don't be. It's not your fault. Do you have a clue who it was?” he asks, and Erik snorts. “Yeah. There's only one person who would do something like this.”

Robert regards him and then nods slowly. “Yes, of course. It was Marco, wasn't it?”

 

***

 

Erik swallows and nods. “He knew about my... crush on you for a long time, and he sometimes teased me with it, but I'd never have thought that he would actually go so far and do... this...” He gestures vaguely at Robert's phone on the table.

Marco is a much more attentive person than most people are giving him credit for, and he noticed the way Erik was pining after Robert when he thought that no one was looking. He saw Robert's pictures Erik had saved on his phone and teased him about them too, but Erik had really thought his secret and his fantasies about Robert to be safe with him.

He and Marco are friends, good friends, and sometimes they are more than just friends, but they're not an exclusive couple, and Erik knows that Marco and Robert have had sex on a regular basis as well. Probably still have.

“But he did.”

“Yes. For whatever reason,” Erik says bitterly, feeling betrayed and hurt.

“Not because he wanted to hurt you, hazel-eye.” Robert's voice has lost its teasing and provoking undertone, and he sounds sure of what he's saying. “If I had to guess, then I'd say that he did that because he knew that you would never make a move on me yourself without being pushed like that.”

“Marco didn't have any right to interfere like that.” Meeting Robert's eyes is easier this time, and Erik is deeply grateful when he doesn't find any mockery in the deep blue orbs gazing back at him.

“I'll leave if you want me to, Erik.”

Erik doesn't want Robert to leave, but he's not sure that he's ready to admit that. He licks over his suddenly dry lips with the tip of his tongue, and Robert's eyes darken, his gaze dropping down to his mouth. “What do you want, Rob... Lewy?” he whispers, and he feels hot and giddy all of a sudden.

“What do you think, hazel-eye? Do you really believe that I came all the way here just to have coffee with you? Or worse, to mock you?”

Erik's throat is so tight that he can hardly breathe, and his dick twitches in his jeans, making them feel tighter than they already are. He tries to speak, but his brain fails him, and he swallows thickly, licking over his lips again, his gaze glued to Robert's face that his far too close to his own for his peace of mind.

Robert moves his hand from his shoulder to his face, cupping his jaw to keep his head in place and stroking teasingly over his trembling bottom lip with his thumb. The light touch goes straight to Erik's groin, and he can't bite back the soft moan that escapes his mouth.

Robert smiles, and he lets his gaze travel over Erik's face. Over his burning cheeks and his flaring nostrils, his bitten lips and his hairline until he reaches Erik's eyes again, looking straight into them. Erik knows that his pupils are blown, giving his longing and his desire for his visitor away, and he couldn't avert his gaze from Robert's intensive stare, even if his life depended on it.

“Tell me that Marco doesn't know you, Erik. Tell me that these are not your fantasies but something Marco has just written without knowing that this is everything you always wanted to do with me. Tell me that you don't want these fantasies to come true tonight, and I will leave you alone. Tell me now that you don't want me, hazel-eye, and I will go and never ask you again.”

Erik feels lightheaded, and he simply keeps looking Robert in the eyes, unable to move or tell him any of the things Robert has just asked him to say.

“Tell me that you don't desire me, hazel-eye,” Robert whispers only inches apart from his lips, their eyes still locked, and Erik draws in a shaky breath.

“I can't.”

Robert cocks his head to the side. His thumb draws another tender circle over Erik's lips, and Erik's entire body responds to the gentle caress with a hot wave of raw desire and need that makes him so hard in his jeans that he can hardly stand it.

“You can't do what? Allow me to let your fantasies come true tonight – or tell me that you don't want me?”

A small whimper makes its way to Robert's ears. “The second.” Erik wants to close his eyes because Robert is looking right into his soul, finding all of his best kept and so desperately hidden secrets there, but he can't move, not even his eyelids.

“Say it then, hazel-eye. Say that you want me as much as I want you,” Robert demands, his warm breath ghosting over Erik's oversensitive lips.

“I want you, Lewy.”

 

***

 

The next thing Erik knows is Robert crashing their lips together in a heated and passionate kiss. The dark-haired striker doesn't give him the time to think or the chance to draw back, and their first kiss is not a gentle and tentative approach with soft and closed lips, Robert asking politely for entrance.

Instead it's a declaration of war, a fierce attack that leaves no doubts about Robert's true intentions. It's a messy battle with lips, tongues and teeth clashing together with snarls and hisses and groans, urgent and desperate and full of long suppressed feelings and secret desires.

Erik wonders briefly about it, because the way Robert is kissing him makes him think that Robert might have been as unsure, confused and scared about this as he himself has felt ever since the moment he saw his obviously not so secret crush leaning against his front door. But this can hardly be, can't it? Because Robert Lewandowski is Mr. Sex-on-legs and doesn't need to worry about his own appeal and attractiveness, and he knew about Erik's crush on him for a long time as he'd said earlier – opposite to Erik who hadn't had any clue about Robert's desire for him until an hour ago.

But the thought vanishes with the way Robert licks into his mouth as if he was conquering his new rightfully won territory, and Erik grabs Robert's clean-shaven cheek to deepen their kiss and do the same, exploring Robert's mouth with the same ardor and urgency. He's feeling much bolder now, and he won't make this an easy win for the other man. They're equal in their desire and need, and Erik pulls away from Robert's swollen mouth, taking in the sight of Robert's ruffled and disheveled state with sparkling eyes and a challenging expression.

“You want to make my secret fantasies come true tonight, Mr. Sex?” he snarls passionately. “Alright, you can do that. There's one Marco apparently doesn't know about because it's not in your chat. In this fantasy, I'll be the one in charge, and I'll be the one telling you what we'll do. I'll be the one getting to fuck you, Mr. Sex-on-legs Robert Lewandowski, so if you don't want that, you'll better leave now.”

Robert stares at him for a moment or two with a blank expression on his beautiful aristocratic features, and Erik holds his breath, fearing that he's gone too far. But then Robert's eyes light up at the challenge, and the knowing smile is back on his face.

“If that's what you want, hazel-eye. Just go ahead, show me what you've dreamed of for so long, I'm all yours tonight!”

 

***

 

They kiss on their way to Erik's bedroom, and Robert surrenders willingly to Erik's onslaught on his mouth, opening his lips for him and meeting his tongue without trying to control their deep kiss. Erik's mind is clouded with lust and his briefs are damp where his cock tries to tear through the tight garment. He suppresses a relieved sigh when he can push the door open, and he grabs Robert's shoulders to bring some distance between them and look at him. He switches the light on his nightstand on, because if he's going to do that, then he really doesn't want to miss the sight of a sweaty and aroused Robert Lewandowski in his bed and at his complete mercy.

“Undress me!” he orders breathlessly, and Robert smiles at him. “Your wish is my command, hazel-eye,” he purrs, and he starts his new task with tangible excitement and as if he was unpacking a long-awaited present with rapt devotion.

Erik remains motionless, not willing to make it easier for Mr. Sex-on-legs Robert Lewandowski, but Robert doesn't need any help or encouragement, and Erik soon has a hard time with staying still because the dark-haired striker uses the opportunity to kiss and stroke the shimmering skin he's revealing to his hungry and rapturous glances.

“You're even more beautiful than I remember you to be, hazel-eye,” Robert whispers in this damn husky and sexy as hell bedroom voice Erik has never heard on him before, “you've put on muscles on all the right places. Your body really deserves to be worshiped properly.” He pulls Erik's undershirt over his head and puts it to the sweater on the chest of drawers, traveling over Erik's naked torso with curious fingers. He traces along the elegant curves of Erik's collarbone, flexes his digits over his well-shaped breast muscles and his hard nipples, teasing Erik's navel and the elegant lines of his abs with his thumbs, and he follows his hands with his eyes, humming in astonishment and approval at what he sees. “So, so beautiful, hazel-eye.”

Erik bites on the inside of his cheek, but a small whimper escapes him nonetheless, and Robert chuckles throatily and presses a kiss onto his throat where his pulse is throbbing and racing. He kneels down before him to pull Erik's tight jeans over his narrow hips, looking up at him adoringly, and Erik gasps with relief when the unbearable pressure on his raging hard-on eases and his tight pants come off. Robert's lips follow the blue material all the way down on the right leg at first, and then on his left leg as well, and hot tears are stinging in Erik's eyes all of a sudden when Robert lets his lips linger on his scars for a few seconds, kissing them with so much tenderness that Erik wants to cry. They have faded to thin lines, hardly visible any longer, but Erik knows that they are there, and Robert's small gesture as he's acknowledging his pain like this catches him off guard and makes it hard for him to keep his composure.

“Such beautiful endless legs,” Robert murmurs, and he strokes along the inner sides of his thighs until Erik fears that he will come just from that. He steps out of his jeans to distract himself, lifting his feet up, one after the other to help Robert pulling his socks off. Somehow Robert has taken control over again, and Erik steps back and pushes Robert's hand away when he tugs at the waistband of his briefs.

“Stop, not yet!” he says, turning around to walk over to his bed and make himself comfortable on it. He leans against the headboard and regards the other man for a moment. Robert is still fully dressed, and Erik has a sudden idea.

“Give me my phone, it's in my jeans.” Robert obeys with a questioning and curious glance, fishing for Erik's phone in his jeans and handing it to him. Erik grins smugly as he takes it to scroll through his play list until he's found what he's been searching for.

He raises his eyes to look up at Robert standing before the bed and waiting for his next order, and he presses the play button and purses his lips.

“Strip for me, Robert, strip for me and make it be good!” he says when the first tunes of 'Sex bomb' from Tom Jones sound in the cool air of his bedroom.

 

***

 

Robert gazes down at him, his face giving nothing away, but then he returns Erik's smile and wriggles his eyebrows at him. “I like this dominant side of you much better than the shrinking violet, hazel-eye,” he purrs, walking over to pull at the chair standing under the window and place it in the middle of the room. “Start that song again and you'll get your strip.” he says, sitting down on the chair with spread legs and his hands on his thighs, his eyes fixed on Erik's face.

Erik starts the song again, and Robert begins to move on the chair with lazy and well-measured motions, circling his hips and stroking over his own torso with his hands before tugging at the hem of his cashmere pullover to slowly take it off. It shouldn't be as sexy as it actually is, and Erik's breath hitches in his throat. He can't avert his eyes from the incredibly arousing sight when Robert elegantly raises to his feet, dancing around the chair and getting rid of the tight black t-shirt he's been wearing under the jumper with the gracious movements of a big black panther that's gliding through the jungle to creep up on its next prey.

Erik snakes his hand down on his body and into his briefs to stroke himself while he watches Robert strip for him, and he shakes his head with a disapproving sound when Robert falters in his dance and his gaze wanders down to where Erik's hand has just disappeared.

“Nah, nah, keep your eyes on my face, Robert. Prove to me that you deserve to be called Mr. Sex-on-legs.”

Robert growls, but he raises his gaze to Erik's face again, rubbing with his palm over the impressive bulge under his dark jeans. He tugs at the fly of his pants still moving his body in this sexy way, opening his belt with one hand while he dances around the chair again, and Erik has to stop stroking himself for a few seconds because he feels like exploding at the breathtaking view.

Robert turns around to grant Erik the perfect view on his ass when he wriggles his hips out of the tight piece of clothing, swinging his backside in a mouthwatering way to remove his jeans from his strong-muscled and powerful legs. He throws a look over his shoulder, grinning when he sees Erik's nostrils flare with his labored breaths.

“Do you like what you see, hazel-eye? Just take a good look at my ass now because you'll surely be too busied to enjoy the view when you're finally fucking me.”

Erik grits his teeth and wills his fingers to stroke his straining erection with only little pressure. “It's a nice ass. Now take your socks off and come over here!”

“As you wish, hazel-eye.” Robert pulls his right sock from his foot with much more elegance than Erik has ever seen anybody taking their socks off, and he throws the left one through the air with his left foot, his hands on his black briefs to pull them down as well.

“Don't! Just come here! I want to do that myself!” Erik snarls impatiently, stopping the music and crooking his finger at Robert. Robert stalks over to the bed, and his eyes are blown with his desire for Erik, the blue of his iris barely visible any longer.

He climbs onto the bed and straddles Erik, looming over him with an expression of hunger and need on his face. They stare at each other for some time, and Erik doesn't recognize his own voice when he finally croaks out: “Take my briefs off, Mr. Sex.”

Robert's growl actually sounds like the roar of a black panther, and he crouches down to tug at the waistband of Erik's briefs with his teeth, straining his eyes to watch Erik when he starts to pull the offending garment down on his legs with his mouth. Erik's proud erection springs free, glistening with pre-come, the engorged head deep red and throbbing with his painful desire for Robert.

“Ah, hazel-eye, you're gorgeous. A poor man could go crazy just from looking at your glorious cock,” Robert hums around the cotton in his mouth, and Erik's dick twitches happily at the praise and cranes its head even more. Robert moans and hurries with pulling the last piece of clothing over Erik's feet to throw it to the side. “Fuck, can't wait to feel you inside me,” he grinds out, and Erik can only agree to that, fearing that he's going insane if he can't fuck Robert senseless any time soon.

“Kiss me, Lewy!” he gasps, and Robert moves along his burning body until he's covering him, kissing him deep and passionately with his tongue buried deep inside Erik's mouth. Erik grabs Robert's hips to keep him from grinding against him, and both men gasp loudly when their erections brush against each other for the first time, Robert's still covered with the shimmering material of his briefs. Erik almost tears them into when he shoves them over Robert's ass, and the feeling of Robert's rock-hard dick pressing against his own without any barrier between them, damp and slick with pleasure and so ready to shoot is almost too much to bear. Erik's fingers will probably leave bruises on Robert's hips, but neither of them cares, and they only break their kiss when the lack of air forces them to do so.

“Kneel on the bed, face to the wall!” Erik commands, and Robert moves to the side and kneels on the mattress beside him, bracing his hands against the headboard. Erik inhales and exhales two times to calm himself down, searching for the things they'll need in the drawer of his nightstand when he trusts himself again.

“I'm going to fuck you now, Lewy. I'm going to fuck Mr. Sex-on-legs senseless, and I'm going to enjoy it.”

Robert looks over his shoulder. “Yeah, prove your fucking skills to me, hazel-eye. Make me scream your name,” he purrs, and Erik growls and pushes one lubed finger between his butt cheeks. Robert spreads his legs for him, arching his back, and Erik can't help but admire the sheer beauty of Robert's male body for a moment. Robert Lewandowski is all powerful muscles, elegant curves and hard maleness, and he's naked in Erik's bed, begging to be fucked with his looks and his entire body like Erik has dreamed of Robert doing it almost every night for so many years. He can hardly believe that this is truly happening, and only the warmth of Robert's body heat and the strong smell of his arousal assure Erik that this is not just another wistful dream.

Erik has to bite his lip again when his finger touches Robert's entrance for the first time, and he takes his time to stroke over the tight rim until Robert is bucking his hips against him, his tight hole quivering under Erik's clever finger. “Stop teasing me!” Robert growls, but Erik presses him against the headboard with his free hand to keep him immobile, biting warningly into his earlobe.

“My rules tonight, remember? Keep still or you won't get what you want, Lewy,” he breathes into his ear, and Robert lets out a frustrated mewl, but he goes still under Erik's hand, his knuckles on the headboard turning white with the effort to obey and not move.

Erik chuckles, the feeling of being in charge and having so much power over Mr. Sex-on-legs Robert Lewandowski making him feel drunk and sending another hot rush of desire and lust through him. His aching cock is leaking milky droplets against Robert's backside, and his blood is boiling in his veins, all tiredness and exhaustion gone.

He circles Robert's hole for a few more seconds before finally pushing in, and Robert's silken walls clench around his finger, eager to swallow the cheeky intruder deeper and deeper. Robert's thighs tremble, and he spreads his legs wider, gasping with each thrust of Erik's finger. Erik mouthes at his shoulder and his neck, and it doesn't take long until he can use two fingers, rubbing soothing circles onto Robert's back when the dark-haired strikers tenses up for a moment.

“Fuck, Erik, where and when have you learned to do that? Marco must be an excellent teacher.” Robert groans, and mentioning Marco's name should actually be a mood killer, but it isn't, quite the opposite. It spurs Erik on to pull more moans from his prey, to make Robert forget that any other man in this world even exists, and it'll be his name Robert's screaming tonight, only his and not Marco's.

“He was.” Erik finds himself growling into Robert's ear, snickering when he feels a heavy shiver wrecking the other man with his next deep thrust in. He must have found his prostate, and Erik repeats his movement, curling his fingers into the sensitive bundle that is pulsing under his touch. “Marco was a real good teacher. Do you want to know what he's taught me, Lewy?” Erik nips at his earlobe again, and Robert rewards him with another heavy shudder.

“Fuck, yes, yes, show me what he taught you, hazel-eye. Show me now, I'm ready for you!”

“Hmm, I should use three fingers to make sure that you'll be able to take my dick without problems,” Erik teases him, and Robert cranes his head to shoot him a pleading glance. “This is torture, hazel-eye! Just fuck me finally, please!” he begs, and Erik feels smug and happy at the same time.

“Hmm, okay, since you've asked me that nicely, Mr. Sex...” he drawls, hoping that he won't tear the condom in his haste to put it over his painfully hard dick. Robert watches him, and he licks his lips and looks so longingly that Erik's heart is making a strange flip. “You're so gorgeous, hazel-eye, I really need you inside me now.” Robert's voice is hoarse and loaded with emotions, and Erik grabs his chin with his left hand to kiss him hard and demanding, guiding himself into him with his right hand.

Robert is so tight and hot, his walls massaging his dick as they spasm around him when Robert struggles to adjust to him for a moment. Erik never wants this to end, he never wants to leave this heavenly place again, so warm and tight and perfect, but he needs to move because he will explode if he doesn't, and he'll surely explode if he does move, so he simply gives in to his overwhelming need and snaps his hips forward, pushing in and pulling out until he's driving into Robert with wanton abandon.

“This is so good, hazel-eye, so so good. Need you deeper,” Robert groans, and the fire in Erik's groin is burning higher and higher until he fears that it will burn him alive. His fingertips curl into Robert's hipbone where he's keeping him in place, and Erik snakes his other hand around Robert's midsection to wrap his fingers around Robert's neglected cock and make sure that Robert will come first and scream his name when he does.

The normally proud and sometimes pretty arrogant Bayern striker is panting and mewling in his arms, shivering and trembling with every forceful push against his prostate, and Erik can feel how close Robert is, close to losing it and howling his name, but he's still struggling, and Erik moves faster and faster until Robert comes with a loud shout that could actually be Erik's name, hot ecstasy erupting from his twitching dick and coating Erik's fingers. He's clenching so hard around Erik's cock buried to the hilt inside him that Erik can't do anything other than just follow him and jump over the edge himself, filling the rubber with his painfully intense release in powerful spurts.

“Erriiiikkk! Fuck, Erik!” Robert croaks out when he goes limp against the headboard, trying to catch his breath.

“Robert... Lewy...” Erik chokes when he doesn't feel like blacking out at any second any longer, his knees hardly capable of supporting his weight after his incredible orgasm. He carefully pulls out of the other one, reaching for the tissues on his nightstand with trembling fingers to remove the condom and clean both of them up at least partly.

He can feel Robert's eyes on him during his task, and he swallows and hesitantly meets his gaze. Robert's expression is soft and full of wonder, and he smiles and puts a shaky hand around Erik's cheek. “Wow, why didn't we do this years ago?” he murmurs, and Erik presses into the touch and inhales with a sound that is half a chuckle and half a sob.

"I don't know, you tell me? Perhaps because you were always so busy with ignoring me and flirting with Marco instead?” He can't keep his hurt about Robert's former behavior out of his voice completely, and Robert pulls him in for a deep and very tender kiss.

“Do you want to know my most precious and wanted fantasy about you and me, hazel-eye? A fantasy I've had about us for a very long time but never dared to admit it out loud so far?” he asks when he gently pulls back from Erik's swollen lips again, and Erik nods silently, even though he's a little bit anxious about what Robert might want to show him.

“Okay, I'll show you, hazel-eye.” Robert carefully lowers him down onto the mattress before Erik can object, covering him with his body and kissing him again. His hands are everywhere upon his body, tender and lavishing attention on each and every spot of Erik's burning flesh. His lips soon follow his hands when Robert is sure that Erik won't push him away, and the next minutes pass by in a haze of tender and rapturous caresses until Erik's face is wet with tears because of the utter tenderness of Robert's touches. He's hard again, hard and throbbing, and Robert kisses his way upwards from his knees to his mouth again, breathing words of adoration against his skin. His hand is between Erik's legs, and Erik has no clue how Robert managed to lube his fingers up and push them between his thighs without him noticing it, but that's probably because Robert's unexpected tenderness makes his mind spin and his heart race in his chest with feelings Erik fears to explore them further.

Robert is so gentle as he prepares him, kissing him all the while, whispering sweet words of nonsense and longing against his lips. Robert's fingers inside him move tenderly, and Erik craves to feel Robert inside his body, to feel Robert filling the painful emptiness inside him.

“So beautiful, hazel-eye, so sweet...” Robert whispers when he rolls the condom over his dick, “want you so much, Erik, so very much...” when he's making himself comfortable between his spread legs and kisses him, entering him with the same heart-wrenching tenderness he has prepared him with.

Erik lies trapped beneath Robert's strong body, and he feels safe and protected, cherished and even loved, and he wraps his arms and his long legs tightly around him, letting Robert take the lead and make love to him. Because that's what Robert's doing now, making love to him, his eyes sparkling in a wonderful deep blue color as he's gazing down at him and stroking his face with tender fingers.

“I've dreamed of doing this with you for years, hazel-eye,” Robert confesses, moving his hips in a slow and steady rhythm, rolling motions that push him deeper and deeper into Erik's secret core until Robert seems to be everywhere inside his body, above him, around him and inside him, deeper and deeper until Erik can even feel him in his soul.

“I had no clue,” he whimpers, and Robert kisses him, mirroring with his tongue what he's doing with his hard dick. Erik feels like flying and bursting, and his dick is rubbing against Robert's perfect abs with every move, seeking friction and attention between their connected bodies. Erik lifts his back from the mattress when the heat of his next climax is building at the end of his spine, pulling Robert's head down fiercely to deepen their kiss. He wants to crawl into Robert, he wants to forget where he ends and Robert begins, he wants to forget everything except for Robert's arms around him and the way he's making him feel while he's making love to him.

“Come for me, hazel-eye, please come for me, I need you to, darling.” Robert's voice his hoarse with emotion, and Erik wants to give him what he's craved for so long, Robert's name escaping him when he comes undone beneath him, spilling hot and wet against Robert's abdomen. Wave after wave of ecstasy courses through him, and Erik shudders and shivers through his orgasm, Robert's solid weight grounding him and reassuring him that he's safe and loved. He knows that Robert is watching him intently, and he lets him see his pleasure and his trust, grateful that he's allowed to let his guard down and be just Erik for a few precious moments. Robert dabs tender kisses onto his face and he keeps stroking him and moving until Erik relaxes with a sigh, his wet and softening cock nestled between their sweaty stomachs.

“What about you, Lewy?” he whispers when he's able to talk again, his body pliant and sated, his mind pleasantly blank and untroubled. “I wanted to enjoy your pleasure, hazel-eye. Now you can enjoy mine,” Robert says with a tender smile, and Erik feels something inside him melt.

“I want you to come for me, Lewy. Show me how much you desire me. Show me all of your secret fantasy,” he says, pulling gently at Robert's head until the dark-haired striker can bury his face in the warm crook of his neck. Robert starts to move again, and Erik can feel the pain of his unfulfilled desire as if it was his own. He pushes his hips back to make this as pleasurable for him as possible, and he focuses all of his senses on Robert and his pleasure, telling him with his body, his hands and his lips what he doesn't dare to say out loud, at least not yet.

Robert goes rigid above him after a few more thrusts, shuddering through his climax with soft moans that tickle at Erik's neck, and Erik strokes his back and waits patiently for Robert to recover from his height when the dark-haired striker relaxes and breathes softly into his ear, trapped in the aftermath of his ecstasy.

He feels calm and happy for the first time in weeks and months, and he kisses Robert's damp hair with a smile, thinking of all the other fantasies he wants to share with his beautiful Mr. Sex-on-legs as well. Maybe even the one about the blow job in the FCB locker room one day, but for now Erik is content with just lying there with Robert in his arms and listening to his slowly calming breathing.

He presses another soft kiss on Robert's temple, and when Robert lifts his head from his shoulder, he smiles at him and kisses his lips, glad that he finally doesn't need to hide his desire for him from Robert any longer. It's too soon to talk about their feelings, but one day they will perhaps do that, and until then, Erik is happy with what they have, with their friendship and camaraderie and the many more sexy fantasies they will hopefully share in the future.

 

***

 

Later when Robert is sleeping soundly and peacefully next to him, Erik silently gets up to make himself comfortable on his couch with his phone.

He doesn't expect Marco to respond when he presses the send button after writing a message for him.

_'I'm so going to pay you back for this, Reus, don't you doubt that!'_

The pot with the now cold coffee is still where they've left the tray on his coffee table, and Erik pours himself a cup and sips from the cold and bitter brew when the screen of his phone flares to life with an incoming message.

 _'Didn't you enjoy yourself, hazel-eye? Was he mean to you?'_ Erik reads, and he's glad that Marco can't see his smile at Marco's cheeky response.

_'That's not the point! How could you even go so far and do that??!!'_

_'It pained me to see you two fools pining for each other like that for so long. Besides, I thought that you could do with a distraction, hazel-eye, and there's no better way for that than some mind-blowing sex with Mr. Sex-on-legs...'_

Erik stares at his phone with an incredulous expression.

_'Oh you!!! How did you even know about my... ähm... fantasies?!'_

_'Uhm, you're talking in your sleep, hazel-eye? Has no one ever told you that?'_

Erik gulps for air, deeply grateful for the darkness in his living room hiding his blush. _'I do what?! And no, no one ever told me. You never told me!!!!!!!'_

_'No need to be embarrassed, hazel-eye. Sometimes it's pretty interesting and enlightening what you're saying when you're sleeping. I must admit that I was pretty jealous at first that most of your dreams were about Lewy and not about me, but your fantasies helped me to satisfy you, so I made my peace with your dreams about another man. And Lewy is indeed Mr. Sex-on-legs, isn't he?'_

Erik chuckles, shaking his head. _'Yes, he is. I have to thank you, I guess. But I'll still pay you back for what you did, Reus.'_

_'I'm looking forward to it, hazel-eye. Now go back to bed and get some rest. Sometimes Lewy's talking in his sleep as well. Unfortunately he's mostly talking in Polish, so it's hard to understand what he's telling. ☺'_

_'Marco!!!!'_

_'Ha ha ha, I'm just kidding. Sleep well, hazel-eye, and have pleasant dreams! ;-* '_

_'Good night, Marco. :-* '_

**Author's Note:**

> I needed something to work off my frustration about Erik's situation in Huddersfield, so I wrote this. Their last match was at least a draw, so there might be some hope left.  
> If there's enough positive feedback and interest for this one, I might add more chapters about other couples and fantasies. <33


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